We All Fall Down
by wood painted flesh
Summary: Clary Morgenstern's father is a movie director. When he begins work on a new hit movie, he asks her to be his own personal assistant. The only problem? Jace Herondale, Hollywood's hottest young male actor is the star, and Clary doesn't handle infuriatingly cute boys too well. Not to mention, she totally has half-naked posters of him hanging in her room. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments characters.**

**Chapter One**

* * *

My mood matched the weather we were having: Inclement.

I was late for my father's announcement dinner. Again. It was partially my fault. The other part was the damn traffic. It was a stormy Friday night in LA—meaning despite the awful weather, people were driving from party to party.

I fidgeted in my seat, my short green dress bunching up on my thighs. The leather seats were cold against my legs. Having a famous movie director as your father came with advantages. My father had gotten me a beautiful silver Mercedes Benz for my sixteenth birthday almost two years ago. It was a nice car and I appreciated it, but I also hated when my father bought me stuff like this. I'd always believed you had to work to get good things in life. Just being handed things made me feel like a moocher.

I finally pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant where my dad was hosting the dinner. The tires squealed as I jerked into a parking space. I pulled a mini umbrella from underneath my seat, checked my makeup in the mirror and stepped out of the car.

I nearly tripped in my silver heels going inside. I spotted my father right away. My brother and he were already sitting at a booth in the corner. It was only the three of us; my mother passed away in a car accident a few years ago. It was the other driver's fault; he'd been drinking that night.

I rushed over to them. Valentine and Jonathan Morgenstern were nearly identical, both with white blonde hair and pale skin. They also shared the same nose. I looked nothing like them, and took more after my mother who'd had red hair and freckles. The only thing my brother Jon and I shared were our green eyes.

My father stood when he saw me. "You're late," he said, though his tone was light.

I kissed his cheek in greeting. "I was writing Emilia Clark fanfiction," I grinned.

"That was your excuse last time," Dad retorted, amusement coloring his voice.

"Was it? Hmm," I pretended to think. "Sarah Palin and I got into a Twitter war and I couldn't leave and let her win."

Dad gave me a look. "Better."

I took a seat next to Jonathan. He pulled me close and ruffled my hair. I squealed and shoved him away. "Hey, Rusty," he said, using my old childhood nickname. "Why were you really late?" He asked.

I thought about the real reason.

I'd been sitting in the library. I'd been thumbing through the newest edition of the phone book—_yes_, they still made those, and I was relieved, seeing as I had been stalking my ex-boyfriend. To be fair, it was for my own safety. I had gone out with Sebastian Verlac for a year and a half before I'd realized it was an unhealthy relationship. Neither of us had known it at first, but Seb had been emotionally abusing me. I'd left him when he'd struck me once. Obviously, he'd begged for my forgiveness soon after, but I had held my head high and marched out of his house. If only I had had that same kind of strength when I'd broke down a few blocks away in my car.

I remember sighing and being sad to see in the phone book that he'd still existed.

I knew Jonathan wouldn't like the idea of me still keeping track of Sebastian. So instead I shrugged and said, "Traffic jammy jam jam."

He snorted and let go of me.

Dad never sat down. He cleared his throat and said. "I'm going to be directing a new movie."

So that was why he'd invited us out for dinner. It was good news, really; he hadn't had a movie job for a little over a year now, but was a dinner at a fancy restaurant really necessary? But I didn't voice my opinion. Instead, I smiled at him and congratulated him with a hug.

Jon was a little less patient. "Well? Tell us about it!"

Dad looked a little embarrassed. "Just remember that it's not my pitch. It's basically about a young boy who is trained to become an assassin. When he's older, he gets an assignment to kill a girl, but he falls in love with her instead. He doesn't want to kill her, and the people he works for are getting suspicious. Eventually, the both of them beat the system and live happily ever after, yadda yadda yadda."

I blinked. It wasn't… _bad, _I guess. It was just cliché. And from the look on Dad's face, he knew it too. He hates clichés. "Well," I began slowly, "maybe you can make it better than it sounds."

Dad scoffed. "Yeah, I hope so." He let out a sharp breath and put a wide, contagious smile on his face. "Who's ready to eat?"

* * *

I traded the shotgun for an AK47. I heard my best friend Simon grumble beside me. The AK was his favorite gun. I stuck my tongue out at him. In retaliation, he shot me.

"Simon, quit it! If we want to get to the safe house, we have to work _together._"

He dropped his controller in mock despair. "There's no way we'll make it to the safe house! There are too many zombies out there. I'll be the distraction and you'll make the run for it."

"Si, you _know_ that doesn't work—"

"Clary!" Dad called. "Have you finished your math homework?"

Simon coughed beside me. "You're still in school?"

I rolled my eyes. It's true; though I would be a senior in the fall, I was something called a Dual Enrollment student—a high school student who takes college classes on the side. I was taking a few summer classes to earn my college credits quicker. I intended to attend Academy of Art University in San Francisco. I did happen to get really lucky with this class; my professor had never taught this section of math before and had admitted to being too lazy to make the class exams and homework because it was summer. Luckily, the class was almost finished.

I yelled back, "It's not _homework_, necessarily. It's just studying!"

"Well then get to it!" He hollered back.

I looked at Simon apologetically. "Sorry, Si."

He shook his head. "S'cool. Besides, I gotta get to Izzy's. See you." He kissed my cheek and saw himself out.

Isabelle Lightwood was his girlfriend. AKA, your average high school student by day, commercial advertisement model by night. She could have her own reality TV show. She got into the business with her exotic looks; dark eyes, and long dark hair, tall with a curvy waist. I wasn't afraid to admit that I was jealous of her beauty.

I dragged my feet to Dad's office. It had been nearly four weeks since he told Jon and me about the movie pitch. The last few weeks had been really stressful for him. He had to work with the movie producer to cast the actors, select shooting locations, interpret the script he'd been given—which sometimes includes writing or selecting it—and soon he would have to approve sets, costumes, fight choreography, and music; give actors direction while conducting rehearsals and shooting the film, direct the work of the crew during shooting, work with cinematographers on shot composition, and lastly, work with editors on creating a rough cut and final film. It was a lot of work. And he wasn't going to tell me which actors and locations were selected for the film. He wanted them to be a surprise, apparently.

I tapped the doorframe. He was hunched over his desk, scribbling something in his notes. "Hmm?" He asked.

"You should stop worrying about me and what I do, and keep doing what you're doing," my voice was firm but gentle. "Too much stress can be bad for you, Dad. Think of what Mom would say."

He set his pen down and sighed. "I know, I know." He dragged a hand down his face. "I just want you to have a good future, too. Jon graduated college—practically for nothing, because all he does is sit on his ass all day. You're my only hope for a successful child." He said it in a jokingly matter, but a part of it was true. Jon really was useless.

I pouted. I used my whiniest voice. "But Dad, how are all these math classes going to help me become a New York It-Girl with a huge wardrobe and a boyfriend in an indie rock band that writes songs about me?"

He laughed. "That was good. You should be an actor." My eyes widened in horror as his widened in excitement. "Hey—"

I pointed a finger at him. "Don't you dare finish that sentence!"

"But—"

I turned away. "Sorry, can't hear you, I'm studying!"

He laughed behind me.

* * *

**Hey guys, long time no see. Updates will be whenever. Very vague. Some chapters are already pre-written, but I want to space out each update so it doesn't bite me in the butt later.**

**Also, I am doing a HUGE TMI collab story with about 12 or 13 other authors on this site. Not many people have reviewed it, but I want everyone to give it a chance. It's called City of Broken Heroes under TrueAngelofMusi1's account and tells a post-COHF story from the point of view of teen survivors of all races after an attack on the Anchorage Institute. I don't think it includes any of our main heroes, but we've created our own which is new and exciting, so just give it a shot!**

**Hope you liked this first chapter and don't forget to review! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments characters.**

* * *

**ishipwessa: ****Thank you, glad you liked it!**

**malecmalecmalec: ****Hey thanks. Here you go!**

**Guest: ****I don't even know you but I'm sure you're beautiful.**

**Alysia (Guest):**** You have a lot of enthusiasm. I update only once a week!**

**Chapter Two**

* * *

I flopped down on my bed. I stared at my childhood bedroom's walls.

I don't think I had ever been ashamed of my teen choices, and I don't think that would ever happen; looking at the posters of half-naked teen celebrities, I had had good taste. I stared at one of the many posters I had of Jace Herondale. Very good taste. If I wasn't wrong, we weren't very far in age.

My phone buzzed next to me. I knew instantly that it was Isabelle. "Hey," I answered.

"Hey! So, we're finishing up here. Wanna meet up at our usual Starbucks?"

I grinned. It was tradition to meet up with Izzy after each photo shoot session. I don't know why or when it happened, but one day it did, and we haven't stopped.

"Hells yeah," I told her.

"Sweet. Don't forget, it's your turn to buy!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. See you soon."

So fifteen minutes later I sat inside the Starbucks Isabelle had asked me to meet her at. It was only a few blocks away from her where her photo shoot was happening. I claimed a two-seater table and pulled out my favorite book, Dead Poets Society. I'd already ordered her regular caramel-vanilla bean frappuccino and I was finishing off the last of my own.

It'd been a few weeks since Dad's casting announcement. By now, he was looking for available movie studios in Hollywood for the things he needs to shoot first. He claims that the main star is a complete gentleman according to all the reading rehearsals they have. Apparently he and his new costar who'll be playing the love interest also get along swimmingly. In my own definition, they've probably hooked up once or twice in a way to break the ice. Gag.

I realized I was slurping my drink now, and slurping in public is _so_ unattractive. I got up to throw away my frappe in the trash can near the door, but I bumped into something—or _someone_—and the next thing you know, I'm sprawled on the floor.

"Shit!" Came a voice from above.

There were black dots in my vision, and someone hauled me up by my upper arms. Palms covered the sides of my face. "Shit," they said again. I realized it was a man's voice. "Are you okay?"

I blinked, and slowly the black dots faded. And holy hell, standing before me was a god amongst mortals. He was truly one of the most stunning and well-formed guys I'd ever seen. Statuesque, even. He was Jace Herondale. Yes, the teen heartthrob Jace Herondale had just knocked me on my ass onto a dirty Starbucks floor, and I wasn't even upset about it.

It was kinda hard to believe that I was staring straight at him. Sure, I had half naked posters of him hanging in my bedroom, but it was nothing like looking at him in real life. Girls would die for this moment.

I snapped myself out of it. "I-I'm fine. My tailbone could use a little help, but otherwise I'm fine."

One of his hands left my face and I almost _whimpered_. That same hand was thrust into his hair. "Shit, I'm really sorry. How bad does it hurt? Do you need to go to the ER? I wouldn't be able to take you myself—I'd have to call someone, but…"

He was rambling. Jace Herondale was rambling.

I shook my head. "No, no! Totally okay. No need to go to any hospitals."

He let go of me completely, and embarrassedly, I stumbled right into him. He caught me with ease, my hands on his chest.

Mmmm. Hard and soft in all the right places.

Jace's brows furrowed. Goodness, he was cute. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded numbly.

Then he crouched down to grab the book that had fallen from my hands. His eyes scanned the title. He smiled and handed it over to me. "O'Captain, My Captain?"

I was surprised. "You've read it?"

He shook his head. "I saw the movie."

I nodded. "Robin Williams died."

Jace sighed. "Jumanji was my life."

I smiled and it hit me that I was having a normal, everyday conversation with _Jace Herondale._

And then it was like time unfroze and people around us began to notice him. I was pretty much shoved away from him as girls began to crowd him, and he didn't make any move to stop them. In fact, he welcomed them with his fascinatingly bright and beautiful smile.

I backed off and let him do his thing. I wasn't upset though. Oh no, this had probably just made my life.

I sat back down where Isabelle's frappe still was, forgotten.

When Isabelle finally decided to show up, I was still lost in euphoria and elation. She showed up in a giant floppy hat and huge, dark sunglasses. Although Isabelle was only a model, she still had a small fanbase. Some girls looked up to her and sometimes stopped for a picture or two.

Isabelle sidestepped the crowd of screaming girls pretty easily and plopped down in front of me with a huff.

"Nice disguise," I say drily.

She ignored me and pulled off her hat and glasses. She took her frappe from in front of me with a glare.

"What. The. _Hell_," she hissed. "I need me some attention like that."

I gave her a look. "You _do_ get that kind of attention, Iz. Everywhere we go."

She took a sip of her drink. "Give me one example."

I leaned forward, setting my palms flat on the table. "Remember that time you invited me to a photo shoot in _Spain_? And all the boys wouldn't stop looking at you? _Spanish boys_?" If it were possible, there would have been like, four question marks after each question. "But I was there, too? And they didn't look at me _once_? _Spanish boys?_"

She rolled her eyes. "Stop talking in questions. It's annoying."

"My _point_," I said, gritting my teeth. "is that, while you are like, an E-List celebrity in the States, and uh—I don't know—pretty _unknown_ in any other country, foreign boys still flocked around you. Like bees to honey. Boys. Did I mention they were _Spanish boys_?"

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "You get attention, too," she smirked. "You just don't see it."

I sat back and crossed my arms. "Oh yeah? Like when?"

Her smile was secretive. "I wouldn't look now, but Jace Herondale hasn't been able to keep his eyes off you. He keeps wiping his hands on his pants. That means he's probably pretty nervous." Her smile fades and she looks at me, her eyes shining dangerously. "What did you do to make him act like that?"

I looked down and fidgeted in my seat.

Isabelle gripped my wrist. "Tell me! Did you talk to him? Clary, oh my god, you did, didn't you? What did you guys talk about?" Her eyes flickered back to him. "Wait, don't tell me now, he's coming over here. I'm going to go order something. I need details when I get back!"

And then she was gone and Jace Herondale stood in her place. He watched her leave.

"Was that Isabelle Lightwood?" He asked.

My heart dropped. Of course. He just wanted to talk to her.

I sighed. "Yep."

My hopes were once again lifted when all he did was nod and sat down in front of me, where Isabelle sat. I looked down at my hands in my lap.

Jace cleared his throat and said, "Captain."

I looked up and retorted, "Tweety Bird."

Jace raised an eyebrow. "Tweety Bird?"

I nodded. Maybe a little too eagerly. "The color of your hair reminds me of Tweety."

He patted his hair down. It was cute. "It's not…It's not _that _bright, is it?"

I cocked my head to the side. "It's got a golden hue to it."

Jace shook his head. He held out his hand. "I'm Jace Herondale."

I took his warm hand, which was so large, it engulfed my own. "I figured. From, you know, all the screaming girls."

"Call me Jace."

His cheeks turned pink. "Sorry, you knew that."

I giggled. My god, what was happening to me?

Jace cleared his throat. "What's yours? Your name, I mean. What's your name?"

I smiled at his nervousness and pride also flooded through me at the thought that I made him this flushed. I peeked over his shoulder and saw Isabelle taking a picture with the cashier. She'd be busy for a while.

I decided to be bold. I held my hand out. "Give me your phone."

A look of surprise flashed across his face as he took his phone out of his pocket. "Give me yours and I'll give you mine."

I flushed. Of course he knew what I was doing. I handed mine over. After exchanging my number, I handed him his phone back, and he mine. He looked through his contacts for a new name and ended up laughing softly. "Captain."

He stared at me. I squirmed. This happened for several long seconds. "There's something about you…" He trailed off and shook his head. "Let me see you again."

I smirked. "When and where, Tweety?"

The corners of his mouth kicked up.

* * *

**This was supposed to be longer. But it wasn't.**

**Guys. I read one of the most well-written TMI fics on here in a long time. You gotta check it out. It's called ****_We Could Love_**** by ****WeAllBreakTheSame**** and it is one hundred percent better than this one. Totally does not have as much attention as it deserves.**

**Don't forget to review! (:**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments characters.**

* * *

**guest (Guest): ****My thanks to you.**

**cathclacemaddian (Guest): ****Thanks x314. I update once a week only, so watch out for them!**

**ILOVEYOUCLACE (Guest): ****Thanks. Here's chapter 3 for you~**

**Carrie (Guest): ****Thank you. Here you go!**

**Bookworm (Guest): ****Thanks so much 3 **

**Guest: ****Thanks! (:**

**Jenna (Guest): ****Here is more :D**

**MI cra-cra (Guest): ****Duh ;) . I was totally thinking about fitting her in the movie somehow, but I honestly don't know how it'll work out just yet. If you have any ideas, let me know!**

** / W**

**Chapter Three**

* * *

His smile radiated the entire room. "We should totally hang out right now," he began.

I nodded. "We should."

He wrung his hands. "But I have this thing."

"Things are important, sometimes."

Jace nodded. "What about tomorrow?"

I flipped my hair over my shoulder dramatically. "Oh, you know," I started nonchalantly, "I'll have to check my schedule."

He raised his eyebrows with a grin.

"You see," I continued, "I have to travel back to the 1950s to ensure my birth." My real excuse? Thinking about hanging out with a boy like Jace Herondale did something funny to my nerves. And my stomach. And my head. And pretty much everything else.

"Oh, do you now?" His voice was teasing.

"Mhm," I smiled.

"Well then," He said. "I'll text you."

I held out my hand. "Sure."

Instead of shaking it, he brought my hand up to his mouth and kissed it before spinning on his heels and walking towards the door. If it weren't for keeping up my cool façade, I would have fainted. Right on the dirty Starbucks floor. I wouldn't have minded.

Just before opening the door, he called out, "Good luck on your quest, Captain," and winked. He _winked. At. Me._

When Jace strode out the door with a smile playing on his lips, Izzy immediately took his place.

"We have to leave," She whispered.

My forehead creased. "What? Why?"

She shut her eyes and a noise came from the back of her throat. "I need details! I'm going to scream—and I bet you the lovely people in this shop haven't heard the screams of a thousand dying cats, but they're about to."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed her hand. "Okay, let's go," I groaned.

In the car, she near about slapped me. "You tried _giving him a handshake?"_ She shrieked.

My face heated. "I thought you said you needed details."

"I saw the last thirty seconds. A _handshake, _Clary (!)"

I stuffed my face into my hands. "That was like, the most intimate I've ever been with a guy! Leave me alone!"

She gave me a look that read _Liar._ She'd seen me with Sebastian plenty of times.

After an entire twenty-five minute drive home with Isabelle reprimanding me, and finally allowing me to give her details, she kept her word: She _did_ sound like a thousand dying cats. Well and truly.

…

A few days had passed, and Jace kept his promise about texting me. I refrained myself from telling Jon and Dad about it; after Seb, I doubted they'd be happy about another boy coming into my life so soon. I definitely didn't want them giving me or him a bad time.

Jace had told me all about a photo shoot involving half naked women. I tried not to feel jealous—I mean, why should I? I'd only just met the guy. But thinking of other girls attempting to seduce him, and him attempting to look seduced made my blood boil. I didn't tell him this, of course. I had no right to these feelings.

But other than that, after that encounter in Starbucks, I swore I had died.

I was on cloud nine. I had _Jace Herondale's _number. When I came home after dropping off Isabelle, I had even danced in front of his posters hanging on my wall and sang to him.

Sure, some parts of me were _hella_ nervous. I mean, this guy was someone everyone wanted or wanted to be. That was why I had declined his offer to hang out the next day. And another part of me worried that he did this all the time, gave his number out to innocent, naïve girls.

But the euphoria mostly ignored that.

I believed that nothing could ever replace that feeling. And that belief lasted for forty eight hours.

I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I dug it out and looked at the caller ID. It was Jon. I answered, confused. "Jon?"

"Clary, Dad's inviting us down to the studio. Says the set's complete and he wants us to check it out. Some of the actors should be stopping by, too."

"You're in the same house as me and you had to call me?" I asked, exasperated.

He hung up and texted me the studio number. I groaned and rolled off the bed. I practically crawled all the way to my car. Jon's was missing, indicating he'd left minutes before me.

Driving through the streets of Hollywood, I pondered for a minute. People who wanted to live in Hollywood baffled me. The media had truly duped people into thinking Hollywood is a desirable thing. There were a shitload of people in Hollywood, whether they were homeless, prostitutes, panhandlers, "I wanna be an actor" kids, and my favorite: celebrity impersonators begging for money. Hollywood is not a nice area at all; it's dirty, and definitely not somewhere you would want to hang out at night. Very dodgy.

So I was pretty upset when Dad had chosen a studio there. I pulled into Universal and slowly scanned the studios until I reached Studio #34. Next to the huge building, I could see actors' trailers, but I was still too far away to read the names in the stars on the doors.

I parked and walked over to the open entrance, where a guard stood with a clipboard. He looked like a typical movie security guard, with a Bluetooth headset, black pants accompanied by the standard black shirt with the word "SECURITY" across the chest. He even had opaque sunglasses that shielded his eyes. The whole getup.

When I walked up and stopped in front of him, he barely glanced up. "Identification." It wasn't a question.

Silently, I held up the photo ID I'd taken a few years ago when Dad worked on another movie. I tried saying "Clarissa Morgenstern," but my voice was hoarse. I cleared my throat and tried again, embarrassed.

He glanced at his clipboard and back down to me, then to the ID in my hand. He nodded his head and let me through.

The inside of every studio was impressive, to say the least. Everyone is always doing something. It's very—_chaotic._ The reality of a Hollywood set is this: A film set is a money fueled freight train charging full steam ahead while the crew perilously runs alongside laying down the tracks, digging tunnels and clearing forests. Nobody has the ability to stop the train safely but everyone has the power to derail it catastrophically. Tempers flare out of control, stress is rampant, and nobody wants to hear those words, "You fucked up!"

Even for a job as small as Production Assistant and/or Personal Assistant, those words could be lethal. PA jobs are _the lowest _you can get. They are the infamous bottom rung of the entire film industry. Although they're the lowest, a film set simply could not function. It's a difficult job for sure, but it gives me a rush, and that's what I love about it most.

Immediately, I spotted Dad sitting in his chair talking to important looking people. I started in that direction, but a voice to my left stopped me in my tracks.

"Captain?"

I looked, willing myself not to die right there on the spot. "Tweety?"

Yup. Jace Herondale was staring straight at me. He held a water bottle in his hand and looked rather sweaty. He wore a tight black leather suit. Very hot.

A smile slowly crept onto his face. His glorious, sweaty face. "What are you doing here?"

I smirked. "I could ask you the same."

He crossed his arms. "I work here. What's your excuse?" A grin still spread his lips.

"You work—(?)" Realization dawned on me. "Oh, don't tell me you're—"

"Clary!" Another voice called. Dad. With Jonathan right behind him.

Damn.

I slowly turned around. Dad had ruined my alias. Damn him. "Hey," I said slowly.

"Ah," Dad exclaimed. "And Jace! I see you've met my daughter, Clary."

Jace's eyes widened. Sigh. This was going to ruin everything. He'd never talk to me again. "We were just getting around to it, sir." He smirked suddenly and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, _Clary._"

I shook it begrudgingly. "Likewise," I mumbled.

Jace pulled back. "I gotta go freshen up for the next scene. Maybe, I'll see you around sometime, _Clary_?" He still had that stupidly cute smirk plastered on his face.

He left before I could respond.

My face was on fire.

Dad was smiling, probably thinking that we would get along swimmingly.

I, on the other hand, had to refrain from shitting out my intestines. And apparently my discomfort was palpable because Dad asked what was wrong.

Jonathan started laughing. "She had a Jace-obsession stage for a few years."

Dad frowned. "Really? When?"

Jon wouldn't stop cackling. "According to her face, it hasn't stopped!" He slapped his knee. "She looks like she's going to throw up!"

I threw my arms across the face. "Stop it!" I squeaked.

But he didn't. Instead he sang, "Clary loves Jace, Clary loves Jace!"

My face burned even more, if it was possible. I punched him. Repeatedly. "You can't just say those things, you no good good for nothing nobody!"

He howled louder.

* * *

**Hey so if anyone actually reads these, you should so totally check out my new tumblr I made under this name. The link should be on my profile. Once I gain enough followers, I'll be posting previews of this story and probably prompts for new ones.**

**Also important: ****_City of Broken Heroes. _****Check it out. I'm co-writing. Along with like, 9 other authors on this site, who you should also check out: ****TrueAngelofMusic1**** (she's the one runnin' the show), ****JustDon'tFlickrr****, ****TheEternalDaylightingRanger,****theYAfangirl17,****PokGirlBlue,****Another Blonde Bombshell,** **Reneesmee4eva,****CityofWillHerondale914,**** and ****CityofDauntless.**

**Don't forget to review! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments characters.**

* * *

**MI cra-cra (Guest):**** I was thinking something along those lines as well. I actually have chapters 1-11 already planned out, so I'll either have something squeezed in or added after 11 chapters. We'll see though!**

**Lovaticstayingstrong: ****Thanks bb (:**

**Guest:**** Thank you so much! I update once a week only, so make sure you keep your eyes open for the next update!**

**Alysia (Guest): ****Thanks! Still only update once a week though, sorry! /3**

**Guest:**** Here ya go.**

**justme (Guest): ****That's wonderful to hear! x**

**Chapter 4**

* * *

I stuck to Dad like glue for the rest of the day. I brought him food from the catering tent when he asked, helped him sort out paperwork and scripts, and avoided Jace Herondale. Well, _attempted _to, anyway.

I accidently walked past his set on my way to the coffee cart. The Assistant Director had sent me to fetch him a black coffee.

Jace was standing with Aline Penhallow, his costar and his character's love interest. Standing together, the two of them looked like the front page of a magazine. I felt an unfamiliar pang in my chest, but it dissipated when Jace looked up and caught my eye. He gave me a quick lopsided grin and winked.

Hot damn.

A voice to my back startled me. "Are you the girl Mr. Hottie-Patottie is pining over?"

I looked behind me and saw a _very_ flamboyant and unrestrained man walking toward me. His eyes were _freaky._ They had to be contacts—no human being was born with green cat eyes. His suit jacket was a sparkling purple and he wore a white tie and—was that _underwear_ over his tight pants?

"I-I'm sorry?" I stuttered.

The guy rolled his eyes. "He's been texting someone when he's not supposed to be. And I know for a fact that Jace Herondale is very heterosexual, so that damn grin this morning during hair and makeup was _not_ because of me."

I pursed my lips. The thought of Jace in hair and makeup made me want to giggle. "That might have been me?"

He sighed. "Try not to, next time," he told me, but it wasn't unkind. "He's gotta focus, or he'll lose this job. It can certainly happen. They haven't shot everything yet—still have a lot more to go in fact; he can always easily be replaced. Even then—"

I interrupted him. "Got it. Won't happen again."

He looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. The film industry and acting business can be very stressful."

I nodded. "I get it."

He looked skeptical and looked me up and down. "Are you sure?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yes," I crossed my arms. "I may not be an actor, but I've practically grown up on film sets."

He gave me a pitying look. "You're in LA, babe, everyone's an actor.

"My father is the director."

It was an all-time low for me to pull that card. I almost _always_ kept that a secret, if my father didn't already say anything. Something about the tone of this guy's voice made me do it.

The colorful man's cat eyes widened. "Oh—" He held out his hand. "Really sorry about the attitude. I'm Magnus Bane."

I relaxed and shook his head. "It's—no, _I'm_ sorry; saying that was totally uncalled for." I sighed and shook my head. "Clary. Morgenstern. Clary Morgenstern." I said dumbly. I squeezed my eyes shut. When will this embarrassing day be over? "I like your eyes," I changed the subject.

Magnus looked relieved and smiled brightly. "Thank you! When I first got the contacts, putting them in is extremely difficult and I nearly poked my damn eyes out the first few times." He sighed lightly. "Being a fashion leader is not only exhausting, but also quite dangerous."

Magnus checked his very extravagant and very expensive-looking watch. "It's almost time for Aline's solo scene; I should get prepared to do her hair." He looked up and smiled at me. "I wish we could have met under better circumstances, Clary. Really sorry, again."

I only smiled in return. He turned and strode toward the makeup department, almost sashaying his underwear-clad hips. I wasn't naïve; there was no way he was a superhero. But he did wear his undergarments on top of his tights. And I like that in a person.

When I finally returned to the AD with his coffee, he took it from my hands without so much as a "thank you." He mumbled something along the lines of, "Did you get lost on the way?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dad walk past talking through his headset. I skipped over to him.

He looked tense, stressed out. "Hey Dad," I said quietly. "Need anything?"

He looked over and smiled wearily. "Ah, there's my favorite daughter."

"I'm your only daughter," I pointed out.

His eyes twinkled and he threw an arm around my shoulders. "Come walk with me real quick. I need to speak with you."

My eyes widened. "Wait, I _am_ your only daughter, right?"

He laughed. "_Yes_, Clary. You're my only daughter."

I squinted my eyes at him playfully.

I followed him around the set until he spoke. "You've been working on these sets since you knew how to walk," he said in a matter-of-fact voice. "Ever since you were able to, when a cast member needed to eat, you fed them. If they needed to do an errand, you ran it for them. You always fixed the problem, and even when it was too complicated for you, you found an assistant to let them handle it," He said laughing softly. "I remember when you begged for sewing lessons because you couldn't help out an actor with a torn shirt."

I smiled. "Yeah, I remember that."

Dad squeezed my shoulders and slowed his pace. "I wanted to ask you if you wanted a real job here as a real PA."

"What do you mean '_a real job as a real PA_'?"

He halted and placed his hands on my shoulders. "I mean doing what you're doing now, only getting paid for it."

Oh. I started to shake my head. "Oh, Dad, I can't—"

He smiled. "Yes you can. You'll be turning eighteen in a few weeks—a legal adult. You've never had a paying job before, and I think this will be a good money managing job experience. When you hit eighteen, I won't be able to give you an allowance anymore, not really."

"Well, technically you _can_, but—"

"—But you're an adult," he finished softly. "And it's time for me to start treating you like one." He smiled and his hands tightened on my shoulders. "Besides, you've worked hard for it."

That was true, but I was still hesitant. Especially of taking my father's money, even if it _was_ a legal job.

Dad lowered his voice. "What if I told you we were going to Paris for shooting in a few months?"

My eyebrows shot up. That was it. "When you say it like _that_…"

Dad laughed, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. The last time I'd seen those crinkles were before Mom died.

I mentally shook myself out of my reverie. "One hundred percent yes," I continued. "That sounds amazingly fun. One _fun_dred percent."

He pulled me in for a hug. He pushed away slowly, and said, "Alright, you dork. I have some scripts to revise. And while I'm at it, I'll work on your paycheck, too." He kissed my forehead. "Have fun."

I stood there for several minutes after he left. _Paris_. I need to learn a bit of French before then. And a paying _job. _A paying job at something I love doing for free. I smiled giddily and turned around, about to see who needs what done.

But Jace Herondale blocked my way. I yelped and stepped back. He was just standing there, his golden hair wet, and chewed on an apple lazily.

"Captain Clary," he said, smirking.

I nodded once. "Tweety. Shouldn't you be rehearsing, or something? Isn't that a thing actors do?"

He held his hands up, one still closed around the half eaten apple. "Whoa, why the sudden hostility?"

I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly and felt suddenly light headed. "Sorry, I haven't eaten today yet."

He gave me and incredulous look. "What? It's almost 4:30!" He spun the apple to the side he hadn't yet bitten. "Here," he said, handing it over to me, "Take this."

I reached for it, but just as my fingers grazed it, the apple fell. His hand was shaking. Confused, I looked up at him. He was looking at something over my shoulder and looked stark white. He looked so pale that it seemed as if he could collapse on the floor right then. And _god_—it wasn't just his hand that was shaking, it was his entire body.

I looked for the source of his discomfort behind me. All I could see was a woman with blonde hair talking to my father.

"Jace?"

He blinked rapidly and tried to speak. When it became clear that he couldn't utter a single word, he turned away, still shaking.

I suddenly and somehow knew what was happening. My mother had them sometimes, so I'd learned and knew what to do to help her.

Jace was having a panic attack.

* * *

**Hi.**

**So, quick A/N. Updates might be a little more choppy than usual. School and work will be happening in the future. I only update once a week anyway, so updates ****_shouldn't _****be much of a problem, but don't hate me if I miss a week of updating.**

**Questions of the week:**

**1. In order to get to know my readers better, I want to know what your favorite book/book series is? My favorite book is ****_We Were Liars_**** by E. Lockhart. What's yours?**

**2. What do you think Jace was panicking about?**

**Don't forget to review! (:**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments characters.**

* * *

**Alysia (Guest):**** Please don't perish into the depths of the unknown.**

**MI cra-cra (Guest):**** Those are good guesses! Here's the answer**

**Guest: ****Thank you, love! 3**

**Daire123: ****I usually respond to members via private messages, but you've disabled it! Anyway, ****_thank_****_you_**** so very much! Read to find out why he's panicking ;)**

**Guest: ****Thank you. And I suppose you're welcome, too?**

**JayJay (Guest): ****I guess we'll find out, huh?**

**Guest: ****Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!**

**Fangirl crazi407: ****Good guesses!**

**Animefangurlcraz: ****I update once a week!**

**THANK YOU for all the reviews last chapter! I know a lot of you are anticipating what happens next, so I won't keep you long! All I ask is that you read the ****_very super long_**** A/N at the bottom.**

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Jace was having a panic attack.

I didn't know why, and I didn't ask why. All I knew was that the studio was way too noisy; he would never calm down while being in here.

I took his hand carefully and spoke softly. "Jace, is your trailer here?"

His jaw clenched and he was breathing heavily through his nose. I could tell he was trying to maintain calm. He nodded.

Even though I myself was freaking out on the inside, I kept up a cool façade as I led him through the exit doors and into the lot.

Jace still shuffled awkwardly behind me as I scanned the trailer doors.

Upon finding his trailer—which was pretty impressive, by the way—I sighed in relief. I tried the door, only to find it locked. I slowly turned to Jace, who was blinking rapidly behind me. He already held the key in his hand. I smiled and took it with my free hand.

Jace squeezed my other hand so tightly, I felt it begin to bruise. I opened the door quickly.

If I thought the outside of the trailer looked impressive, than the inside was _breathtaking_. But before I could take it all in, a noise like a thousand small feet came from my left.

What I thought sounded like a thousand tiny feet turned out to be four tiny paws. It was a French Bulldog, running as fast as its little legs could take it to greet me.

Jace stepped into the trailer behind me and scooped it up just before it collided into him. He was still shaking, so the poor puppy vibrated with him.

Jace took a seat on the giant couch—bed (?)—thing (?) and I followed in suit. I sat down next to him; I didn't want it to seem like I was looming over him. I refrained myself from smothering and crowding him—my mother didn't like it, either—but it was difficult not to go all Mother Hen mode. Instead, I put a reassuring hand on his back. When he tensed, I was fully prepared to pull it away, but he snatched it in his own hand and gripped it tightly.

Jace's eyes were squeezed shut and his breaths were labored. I just rubbed my thumb across knuckles. Patience is key. During an attack, my mother would use to think she was a burden, so my brother—who was snappy and short tempered—was never able to help my mother through it.

I looked around the trailer while I waited for his breathing to calm down. The kitchen was visible from where we were sitting. The kitchen and dining area alone was big enough to serve clients, crew members, or an entire staff during down-time. Probably all at once, too. The furniture was either a creamy colored leather or black leather, which compliments the oaken wood and marble lovingly. Not to mention—there's also an upstairs (!)

I looked back at Jace. His eyes were still squeezed together, but his breathing was close to normal. Although he was practically squeezing the dog to his chest, it didn't complain. In fact, it wasn't squirming at all. It just sat in his lap, almost like this was a daily routine…

Jace's hand around mine began to relax and I almost sighed in relief. My hand was almost purple. But I didn't let go, not once. I squeezed his hand once, then again.

His eyes snapped open and darted to me. Wrong move on my part. His Adam's apple was bobbing up and down and he was breathing rapidly again. Shit shit shit.

I needed to get him to focus on something else. Being short of breath was one of the most common symptoms of anxiety and panic.

"Breathe with me, Jace," I told him.

I took a deep breath, and after a second, so did he. After inhaling deeply, we exhaled just as slowly together. "One," I counted.

Inhale. Exhale. "Two."

Inhale. Exhale. "Three."

We did this until we got to ten. By the end of it, his breathing was still a little uneven, but it was better than when I messed it all up. I tried a different exercise that would work for my mother.

"Let's put both hands on our head, like this," I instructed. I placed my palms on top of my head, just above my ears. He followed uncertainly, but didn't protest. The dog still sat obediently in his lap.

"That's it," I encouraged softly.

We stayed in that position until our arms grew tired. Then I instructed putting our hands on the back of our head, like we were daydreaming. Doing this briefly focused the brain on something other than the anxiety he was feeling.

Next we brought our right hand to touch our left shoulder, and our left hand to touch our right shoulder.

"Good," I said with a smile. "We're doing well, Jace."

He sighed slowly, never taking his eyes off me. The dog in his lap began to shuffle around. It nibbled on Jace's arm. That brought his attention down to it. He closed his eyes and pet it slowly.

A small smile spread across my face.

"What's its name?" I asked.

His brows furrowed in an infuriatingly cute way. It took him a while to answer. "Her name is Tinker Bell," he said at last.

I understood what took him so long to respond. Mom's therapist had told me to speak in short, simple sentences when she was having an attack, and that I had to give her extra time to answer. He'd said it was because her brain was sending out a bunch of neurotransmitters (which he had later explained were chemicals) all at the same time, giving a scrambling effect which can make even the simplest of questions take a while to answer. He'd said it was sometimes difficult for her to know what she wanted at that time.

"Why?" I asked.

He sighed through his nose. "Captain…"

I looked over to his movie shelf. "What's your favorite movie?" I needed to change the subject. I knew what he was going to say next.

"_Clary,_" he said more firmly.

Hearing my name on his lips in his voice is what snapped my attention back to him, where I met his gaze.

"You knew what to do," he stated softly. "Why—how did you know what to do?"

That. That was a question I never wanted to have to answer.

But I gave him a small smile. "My mother."

He nodded. "Is… Where—"

"She's passed away. Died two years ago. Car crash." I told him quietly.

Jace chewed his bottom lip. "Mine, too. I mean, not from…not from a car accident."

I didn't respond.

He took a deep breath and looked away from me. "It was like seeing her again today. That woman…from behind, they looked so similar. It was like seeing a ghost." He laughed bitterly. "I shouldn't even care. She never cared for me."

My heart clenched. "Jace, you don't need to explain anyth—"

He cut me off. "Yes I do." He looked at me. "I owe it to you. I-I don't know what I'd do if you didn't help me." He closed his eyes briefly. "She basically married my father for his money. If it weren't for the fact that he wanted a kid, if it were up to _her_, I wouldn't be here. But she did what he wanted because it meant staying with him, his money. I guess, over the years, she actually did fall in love with him. Around him, her eyes shone like stars. To him, she was the perfect wife. But not the perfect mother."

He paused and lifted up the sleeve of his shirt. There were a dozen or so circular scars under his forearm. My stomach dropped. "She gave these to me. She was everything a mother shouldn't be. But my father never saw that, so I never bothered telling him. About a year and a half ago, he suffered from a heart attack and died. A few days later, she committed suicide."

He pulled his sleeve down.

I didn't know what to say. What were you _supposed _to say? "Damn, Jace."

He shook his head. "I've had anxiety and panic disorder all my life. Sometimes nothing at all triggers an attack. Today it was the woman talking with your father." He laughed suddenly. "Your _father_. How lucky is it that the girl I'm crushing on—her _father_ is my boss for the next few months?"

I blushed furiously and Jace put an arm around me and tugged me closer to him.

I hugged his waist and leaned against him, our bodies molding together perfectly.

After a while of sitting there, wrapped around one another, I felt him press his lips to my head.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Then he offered to watch a movie. He let me choose. Naturally, I chose Kick-Ass. I was given a live commentary by Jace Herondale. He told me he'd go gay for Even Peters (I didn't blame him). He claimed he'd look better in Kick-Ass's suit than Kick-Ass himself. He said he could see me being Hit Girl, but not my dad as Big Daddy because—A: that's gross and B: he'd probably lose his job if he told my father that. I doubted it.

Later, as the credits were rolling, Jace said something that would have made me spit out my drink and choke at the same time if I had one.

"Go out with me."

* * *

**So!**

**A few things. First, CLACE. Lots of it. Second, updates my get a little more choppy than they already are. There may be times where I won't update for two weeks. THAT is because I will be trying out for my school play, and evidently, I like acting way more than I like writing. (In fact, I hate writing; I just happen to be decent at it.) In addition to that, I'm going in for an interview with an acting agency to see if I fit their company and industry on Wednesday (09-17-14) so wish me luck! In addition to THAT October is right around the corner! I work at a Haunted House almost every weekend in October from 5PM to midnight! Updating may be a little difficult with that going on as well.**

**And last but not least, your homework assignment: Date ideas! I need them! Suggest some to me! Or don't! **

**Have a good one.**

**Until next time.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments characters.**

* * *

**Alysia (Guest):**** I'm glad (:**

**tati1327****: Thank you! I didn't get the part I wanted, but I'm really happy and excited for the person who did.**

**Daire123 (Guest): ****Thank you, my passionate little flower! I update once a week; hope this is satisfactory (:**

**animefangurlcraz:**** Thanks so much, kitten! Here you go**

**TwilightMortal: ****Thank you! 3**

**Guest: ****Thank you~~ Hope this one doesn't disappoint!**

**malecmalecmalec: ****Thanks, dove (: I was a little disappointed with the part I got, but it's a part nevertheless! **

**Alexnicolerod:**** Yes! He did! Originally, I wasn't going to make him, but look what happened :D**

**MI cra-cra (Guest):**** You were so very wrong! A good wrong though, don't worry. And goodness, I ****_know_**** he is (;**

**Ivy Crystal: ****Uh, obviously you must be looking in a mirror ;)**

**lindsayhonaker:**** Thank you, I'm so glad you liked it!**

**A big thank you to all the date suggestions! And reviews, and follows, because my goodness, we've reached +145 followers. This story is receiving far more feedback than my last, and it makes me really really happy :)**

**Chapter 6**

* * *

I sat up and away from Jace. His arm dropped from where it was wrapped around my shoulders.

Tinker Bell, who had been lying in between the both of us, jumped down and ran a whole lap around the kitchen before running back and jumping next to Jace.

"I-I'm sorry?" I squeaked.

Very attractive.

His eyes sparkled. Wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. "Go out with me," he repeated.

He wasn't serious. He couldn't be. There was something wrong with me—why else would Sebastian have treated me the way he did? There was a reason. There had to be.

I let out a nervous laugh. "Ha-ha."

Jace looked confused. Cutely confused. "I'm being serious."

And he even sounded genuine.

I smiled sadly. "It's okay, Tweety. You don't owe me anything."

He blinked and shook his head. "What? What are you talking about? Of course I don't owe—" He cut himself off and stared at me. "I want to take you out, Cap—Clary. I _want_ to take you out."

I scoffed, an awkward smile playing on my lips. "Hello? This is _me_ you're talking to."

Jace narrowed his eyes. "Yes…?"

I was getting frustrated. "Just—well, _look _at me."

His eyes roamed over me and I might as well have been naked. "I'm looking. And really enjoying what I'm seeing," he smirked.

"But I'm…I'm disgusting."

His smirk dropped and his eyes tightened. "Why do you believe that?" His voice was low and dangerous.

I wanted to shrink away. But then he lifted his hands and held my face. His grip was not strong, not aggressive; I could pull away if I wanted to, but I didn't want to. His grip was unlike Sebastian's. Jace was not Sebastian. _Jace was not Sebastian._

My eyes stung. "My last relationship didn't end well."

Jace's fingers tightened on my face for only just a second, but in that one second I panicked. He looked away and muscles jumped in his jaw. Then his fingers relaxed and splayed out across my cheeks. He looked at me.

"I'm not asking for a relationship," he said patiently, though his words seemed almost strained. "I'm asking for one day to ourselves. Just one day. And maybe…when you're comfortable…I would like to take you on more dates."

I nodded.

"And if you don't want that either…I'd be okay with being your friend. Because I—uh, I like you," Jace stuttered. I couldn't help but smile; he had a sweet, vulnerable side of him. "And I like your company. I wanna like, hold your hand when you're lonely, and we could just—you know—be there for each other. That would be awesome."

I leaned out of his embrace and kissed one of his very red ears. "That _would_ be awesome," I smiled. My cheeks were red, but so were his, but we were both smiling so wide it hurt, and this moment turned out to be kind of perfect.

Jace leaned over to check his phone. His smile faded. "Uh oh."

"What?"

"Your dad," he swallowed. "He's been looking for me."

I fell back and smothered my face with a pillow. "Shit." My voice was muffled. "…Does he know?"

Jace cleared his throat. "No."

I pulled the pillow off my face. I could tell him. Later. In privacy—if you want," I stumbled. "So he understands."

Jace looked at me. "You'd do that?"

I stood up and stretched. "Of course I would, dummy." He still stared at me as I ruffled his hair. I held out a hand to him. "Now come on. If there's one thing you should know about me, it's that I am _great_ at coming up with excuses."

He grinned and let me pull him up.

After making sure Tinker Bell was fed and fresh newspaper was laid out in the corner by the door (Jace said this was in case she needed to use the bathroom while he was working), we locked up the trailer and headed for the studio—Stage 11, to be exact; that was where Dad was waiting.

Jace touched my hair lightly. "If anyone saw us walking out of my trailer, they might get the wrong ideas." He pulled on one of my curls and watched it bounce back into place.

I looked over to him and joked, "Why? Shouldn't they be used to all the girls you bring in there?"

Jace's gaze snapped back to me, serious as ever. "I've never brought anyone back there. Unless absolutely needed to be there."

Somehow I still had the decency to look shocked. "Really?"

His hand dropped from my hair. "Popular to contrary belief," he began, voice flat, "I've dated very few girls."

I felt awful. "God, I'm sorry. I can be such a bitch sometimes."

Jace tugged my hair again. "No, you were just misinformed."

I smiled gratefully at him and opened one of Stage 11's smaller doors. Dad was up on his feet the moment we stepped through.

"Jesus, Jace," He began.

I held up a hand and cut him off. Dad looked at me sharply.

"To be fair," I started, "There was a freak yachting accident, and it turns out Al-Qaeda was involved, so naturally, we had to fight them."

"Clary," he growled.

"My legs fell off and he had to carry me all the way to the nearest clinic," I tried again.

"I almost called for a _search party,_" Dad hissed. He almost never hissed. Because hissing was for snakes. Dad was not a snake.

I sighed deeply. My excuses were not going to work this time. "Have you tried going to his trailer?"

"Yes," Dad said, completely calm. He was ready to explode. "And it was locked." He looked between me and Jace.

Jace looked appropriately frightened.

I coughed awkwardly.

"Well—"

Dad cut me off. "We'll talk later. Jace, get into costume—I'm pushing you harder today."

Jace mumbled a Yes Sir.

But before he turned and left, I grabbed his arm and tiptoed to kiss his cheek. Just for show. Jace's eyes widened and flickered to Dad before practically running off.

I turned back to Dad, a wide, mocking smile on my face. He was going to kill me.

"Clary, my office. _Now,"_ he grumbled. "We'll talk in a minute."

"Yes," I nodded vigorously. "We will."

He gave me on odd look before pivoting on his heel and striding away from me.

I took out my phone and texted Jace.

_Dn't worry abt me. He nver stays mad at me 4 long. & god damn, u better have a good day filming 2day. I'll be furious if u dn't._

I looked back to see him reading it. A smile lit up his face like a fucking sun.

He responded wicked fast. _I'll pick u up on Saturday at 11am sharp_

Then I heard Dad: "Jace, you know the rules! No phones onset!"

O.o.O

I sat in Dad's swivel desk chair in his office. When he finally arrived, he looked exhausted.

He inhaled deeply and dragged a hand across his scruffy face. "Clary…"

"It's not what you think," I said. "He had a panic attack."

Dad narrowed his eyes and sat down in the chair across from me. "What?"

"He gets them sometimes. Like Mom. Except, he doesn't suffer from depression or anxiety—at least, I don't think so. He told me they just happen, whether they're triggered or not."

Dad closed his eyes and exhaled slowly through his nose.

I continued, "We were talking one second, and then the next he was having an attack. And I…I was—I knew what to do." I swallowed. "So if you're going to be mad, don't be mad at him. I'm the one who dragged him to his trailer."

Dad was silent for a long time. Almost too long. Finally, he said, "Did it work?"

"Did what work?"

He opened his eyes. "Were you able to calm him down?"

I nodded. "Eventually, yes. Then we watched a movie. I-I didn't want to push him back into working right away."

Dad gave me a small, tired smile. "You did the right thing, Clary. I'll go easy on him."

He stood up and headed for the door. I jumped up. "He doesn't want anyone to know."

Dad frowned. "Unless things get serious, or if they happen frequently, I'll stay quiet." He paused. "Anything else I should know?

The date. On Saturday. But he'd forbid it. Not just because Jace was _Jace Herondale_, but because of _him._ Of Sebastian. It would be a long time before Dad trusted another boy with me.

I shook my head and smiled sweetly. "Nope."

Dad raised an eyebrow. "What about that kiss I witnessed?"

Shit on a stick. "Oh—that? Purely platonic."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, totally. I kiss Simon's cheek all the time. Friendship kisses."

He narrowed his eyes, but accepted my answer nonetheless. He bid me a goodbye and left.

I dropped into the chair.

I am so dead.

* * *

**Hey! So this is kinda shorter than the others, I think. I've been sick as hell for about a week and at the moment I'm sporting a shitstorm headache. It's terrible. 0/10 would recommend. Stay healthy. So Clace is happening. Hooray.**

**This gives more people a chance to recommend date ideas. I have a few in mind, but I would like to hear from you.**

**This damn virus I have is making me so tired. So, sorry if this chapter is a little less lively than usual.**

**Until next time.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments characters.**

* * *

**lindsayhonaker: ****Yes they are and yes he is (:**

**Guest: ****Thank you, dear! **

**animefangurlcraz:**** Thank you very much! Here you go :D**

**Blustar (Guest):**** Thank you. I'm pretty sure most movies are books first…**

**MI cra-cra (Guest):**** Yes, being sick is the ****_absolute worst_**** in school. I've missed a few days and only one of my teachers went ape shit on me, then didn't even give me the work to make up—which, she expected to be done in ****_one day. _****And I'd also like to thank you for coming back each week and reviewing—it means a lot to me (:**

**AndyAshleyJakeJinxxCCPatchJace:**** Thanks so much! What is your name a combination of? Sexy characters? Because that's what I see (;**

**Daire123 (Guest): ****They are very cute c: **

**Guest: ****_Yes_****, Al-Qaeda. I was very tired and very sick! Also don't die. **

**Guest: ****I update once a week, love.**

**xxo (Guest):**** Thank you 3 I don't ****_think_**** I'll be one of ****_those authors_****, but I would also like feedback from you guys to know what exactly you want to see/read.**

**malecmalecmalec:**** That sounds like ****_my_**** ideal date, too! Maybe I'll use it later? ;) Thanks x**

**Almost 90 reviews, guys! That's amazing and I love you all.**

****Important: I mentioned Al-Qaeda last chapter! It was probably super insensitive of me! I haven't gotten any negative feedback by it, but please let me know if you were offended; I know it can be a very delicate topic, and I ****_will_**** take it down and replace it with something less sensitive. Thank you! **

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 7**

* * *

"God Simon, keep up," I shoved him with my shoulder and he grunted and almost dropped his controller. He glared at me.

Izzy stopped rummaging through my closet. "Clary, I think I'm more excited about this date than you are."

"You're probably right," I said.

She frowned. "This is _Jace Herondale _we're talking about. I know you like him."

"I don't know, Iz," I grumbled.

"Really?" She asked. "Because these posters tell me otherwise."

My cheeks felt like they were on fire. "Exactly. I'm terrified."

She continued her rummaging. "I get it. This is a _big deal._ And this is no ordinary date, either."

I sat up straighter. "What?" I asked, panic clawing at my throat. "How do you know?"

Izzy shrugged nonchalantly. "I may or may not have stopped by the studio the other day—"

"_Why_?" I squeaked.

"I threatened that if he hurt you in any way, I'd find him—"

"_Izzy_!"

"—and he assured me that—and I quote—'I would find myself,' which was really sweet—"

Simon scoffed. "I can be sweet."

Isabelle doesn't stop. "Sure you can, Si." Simon rolls his eyes and huffs. "Anyway, then Jace kind of told me some details about your date tomorrow morning."

I dropped my head and groaned. "Are you allowed to tell me?"

"Mhm," she clucked her tongue. "He told me to tell you. It's a bit… _odd_ for a first date. Maybe even pretty _intimate_."

"What?" I squawked.

"Apparently, you need an overnight bag."

I paused the game. Simon growled. "Excuse me? Can I ask why?"

Izzy shrugged. "He said he couldn't tell me. He also said to wear something comfy. And gym shoes."

I pulled my hair. "What could that _mean_?"

"Maybe you're going hiking?"

"Where would we go hiking?"

Izzy bit her lip. "To the Hollywood sign?"

"For _two days? _And what am I going to tell my dad?"

"I talked to him. You'll be spending the night at my place," she winked.

I almost ripped my hair out.

"Clary," Simon turned to me. "I get that you're freaking out. I've watched you grow up looking up to this guy, and then crushing on him. It's scary. It's exactly what I went through with Iz. Every day, I'm afraid she'll see what a loser I am and leave me for someone better."

Izzy stopped what she was doing to look at him. "Si…"

Simon wouldn't look at her. He took a deep breath. "My point is, Clary, I say give it a shot. This sounds like a first date you will never forget, even if there is never a second one. Jace seems like a trustworthy guy, despite what rumors the tabloids spread about him. And you never know," He smiled at me, but his gaze flickered over to Isabelle. "He may just be the one."

Izzy whimpered.

My phone buzzed. The name read Jace.

_I need 2 talk 2 u abt tmrw. Call me when u can?_

"I'll be right back," I mumbled, still looking at my phone.

I didn't bother waiting for an answer because I knew I wasn't going to get one. Without even looking up, I could tell both Izzy and Simon wanted to talk.

I hit the call button as soon as I shut the door behind me.

Jace picked up immediately.

"So this date is a little weird—"

I smiled. "Izzy just informed me. I'll be packing an overnight bag in a minute. And hello to you, too."

Jace sighed. "Sorry. Hello Captain. How are you?" He asked politely.

"Stressed. This date is stressing me out."

"What?" He sounded worried. "Wha—Why?"

I sighed in frustration. "I told you, my last relation—"

"And I told you, I'm not asking for a relationship," He cut me off gently. "I just want to take you out. Overnight. No—I'm sorry, that doesn't sound right. Think of this as an adventure. It's just a really long, and adventurous date. And also, whoever he was must be a pompous ass."

I snorted, suddenly feeling the weight come off my shoulders. "Why do you say that?"

"Because clearly he didn't treat you very well!" Jace said indignantly.

"His name is Sebastian," I told him quietly. "Sebastian Verlac."

"Clary, don't—you don't—"

"I know you want to know, Jace." I smiled, even though I knew he couldn't see me. "And anyway, he still lives around here, so if you ever run into him you can beat him up for me."

Jace doesn't laugh like I expected him to. "What happened?" He asked instead, his voice low.

I swallowed. "It was your typical high school romance. At first. I thought we would be going far. After graduation, I figured we would find a place together downtown. And then he became controlling. Any time I wanted to hang out with Isabelle or my best friend Simon, he'd forbid me. Even family dinners with my brother," I shook my head and trailed off. "He didn't trust me. Not even with my _brother._ He thought I'd cheat every second we were apart. My _brother._

"Sometimes he'd even guilt trip me into doing some… things… for him." I shuddered. "It's not something I'm proud of. It wasn't exactly _force_, but it wasn't with consent on my end, either. I-I didn't even know or realize when the relationship became something so _disgusting_. It was a slow, gradual change. I didn't know," I took a shuddering breath. "Until he hit me."

I waited for something—anything on Jace's end of the line, but there was only silence.

"He only hit me once… but it—it was enough. I ended it. Right there. He'd tried to apologize, convince me it was an accident…"

I could hear Jace breathing harder. I blinked back threatening tears.

"I had a black eye for a week or two. And bruises on my wrists where he grabbed me and begged me not to leave him."

Jace growled. "If I ever come face to face with that fucker, he won't ever dare to look at you or be near you or even think about you ever again."

I laughed softly. "I'll help you."

"Nope," He said. "No, I won't let you near him."

"My knight in shining armor."

"I'm not a knight, Captain."

"Oh, that's right," I said. "You're Tweety."

"You're wrong there, too," I could hear the smile in his voice. "You are the princess and I am the dragon."

"Dragon Tweety. I like it."

"I'll protect you, Clary. As best I can."

I smiled softly. "I like the sound of that."

"I'll pick you up at 10 AM sharp tomorrow. It's gonna be a long day. Text me the address."

"Okay," I said.

"Okay," Jace repeated. "Goodnight, Captain."

"Goodnight, Tweety."

We hung up. When I returned to my bedroom, I found Simon and Isabelle wrapped up in each other on my mini couch, watching a gross rom-com movie Izzy surely picked out. They were both fast asleep.

I turned off the TV and the lights went next. I brushed my teeth in my en suite. As I fell asleep, only one thing played in my mind over and over and over again.

_I will protect you._

* * *

**Hey so if you haven't read the "**Important" A/N at the top before the chapter, please read that!**

**This chapter took a completely different turn than what I originally planned. I planned on the date happening right now. But. Yeah. Something went wrong. Or right. I liked how it turned out. Date will be next week for sure!**

**One more thing; I want to know what ****_you _****want to read! I have a few ideas for the next few chapters, but let me know you want to see (anywhere from Isabelle x Simon, Alec, more Magnus, more Clary and Jonathan/Valentine, or any Clace, etc). I would love to squeeze some of your ideas into this story because you guys make my happy. PM me here on FF or on tumblr (:**

**Don't forget to review!**

**Until next time**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments characters.**

**animefangurlcraz****: Thank you, I'm glad you like him (:**

**Guest:**** Thanks! Here you go**

**GreyEyes217: ****Thank you, love.**

**MI cra-cra (Guest):**** If only there ****_was_**** a store where we can buy our very own Jace. Someone might want to get to work on that (; I'll plan on fitting in a little bit of everyone in the next few chapters. And trust me, I know real life comes first. I give myself a whole week to write these chapters, yet I somehow always wait long enough to do it the night of/night before my usual update day.**

**Guest: ****Thank you. Very simple review. I like it. **

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**Alexia ShadowDemon:**** I've got the next few chapters planned out, and I'm so excited when that certain someone will make an appearance. I've been waiting a while to write it (;**

**Aye3:**** You're right, I ****_did_**** make a new Jace. I hope that's okay. Personally, although he's got the characteristics I've given him, I would still prefer book Jace to this Jace.**

**AndyAshleyJakeJinxxCCPatchJace:**** I don't know, maybe you'll get to see that happen~~~**

**Fangirl crazi407:**** Sorry to keep you waiting!**

******Thank you all so much for the awesome feedback! Hope you like this chapter :D**

**Chapter 8**

* * *

The next morning, after Izzy and Simon left, I was pacing in my bedroom.

I couldn't even pretend to begin to describe how nervous I was for this date. I'd already spoke to Dad that I would be "spending the night at Izzy's, so don't worry about me tonight." And I knew for a fact that Izzy would cover for me if he ever got suspicious. He'd believed me of course, but when I caught Jonathan's eye, I knew he was a bit more skeptical than Dad. A lot more skeptical. So I did my best to avoid him by hiding in my room for the rest of the morning, dreading the next 24 hours.

Don't get me wrong. I'm so excited for this date, it almost _hurts_. But I'm worried because this is _Jace Herondale_ and I'm… _me. _I'm really not anything special, and Sebastian—although very subtly—made sure to remind me of it.

I'm only famous by association, and barely at that. I've had my picture taken once or twice when I was out with Izzy and my name was mentioned when someone wrote about Dad. And speaking of that—_how the hell _were Jace and I going to pull off this date without being seen?

A knock at my door made me jump. I opened it and came face to face with Jonathan. He pushed past me.

"Wow, okay. Hi," I muttered.

Jon rolled his head on his neck and sighed through his nose. "I know for a fact that both Isabelle _and_ Simon spent the night last night. What are you planning? And why are you dressed like that?"

I looked down at my clothing attire. I was wearing what Jace suggested: a T-shirt and shorts with gym shoes. I looked back up at Jonathan. "My and Izzy are going hiking," I said with a huff.

He snorted. "Yeah, like I'll believe that for a second. Izzy would never risk breaking her nails or ruining her hair, and you're too fat."

"I am not fat!" Jonathan gave me a look. "I'm just very inactive," I mumbled.

"Rusty," He started, "What's going on? I won't tell Dad. Scout's Honor."

"That's not fair," I stated. "I was never able to take Boy's Scouts."

"Clary," He warned.

I sighed and closed my eyes. "Promise?"

"'Course, Rust. I mean, like, you suck sometimes…" I rolled my eyes. "…but I'd do anything for you. You know that."

He's got me. I groaned in frustration. "I'm going on a date."

Jon's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really? With who?"

"Jace Herondale," I mumbled.

He actually looked impressed. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm going on a date with Jace Herondale."

He shook his head. "No, I mean, are you sure you're ready?"

Oh.

I shifted uncomfortably. "I mean… Jon, it's been a few months. I can't let _him_ hold me back." Even though I can't stop thinking about how he basically ruined my life. I didn't tell Jonathan this, though. I couldn't. "It's about time I moved on, I think. Don't you?"

"Yeah, Clary, I do."

He suddenly laughed lowly. "No wonder," he muttered.

"No wonder what?"

"Dad said the only reason why the crew and cast are taking the weekend off is because Jace requested it. Said something about visiting family in San Francisco. But he's really taking you out."

Then something hit him.

"Wait," He began cautiously, "why do you need a whole day? He's not keeping you overnight, right?" He asked, eyes narrowed. When I didn't answer, he raised his voice. "_Right_, Clary?"

"Uh, maybe?"

"You're not going." Suddenly, there was a protective tone to his voice.

"Yes, Jonathan. I'm going. He's not like what you think."

"Oh yeah?" He challenged. "You suddenly know him so well?"

"No, Jon—"I hissed, "—that's the whole point of dating! To get to know someone!"

"_Overnight_?" He almost yelled. "How do you know he won't take advantage of you? How will you be able to defend yourse—"

_Smack!_

My hand stung. I held my breath. I'd just slapped him. I was just as bad as Sebastian. "Jon," I whimpered, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" I took a deep breath. "I'm not weak, Jonathan. I'll be able to handle him if he tries anything." I added, "Which he won't, by the way."

He looked as if the slap didn't even faze him. "Do you trust him?" He asked in a low voice.

I didn't hesitate. I didn't need to. "Yes."

He looked out my window, which was facing the front yard. "Well, then you'd better get going. His car just pulled up." He whistled. "That's a damn nice car."

"You… you mean, you're letting me go?"

"If you trust him," He smiled softly. "Then yeah. But just be careful. Now go, before this dumbass gets caught by some paparazzi and ruins your whole plan to avoid Dad."

I ran up and hugged him tight. "Thank you," I whispered. "And I'm sorry about hitting you. It was wrong of me."

"I deserved it," he reassured me. He looked back out my window. "I might just walk outside with you. That car is a beauty."

I rolled my eyes. "You can grab my bag then."

I made it downstairs without Jonathan just before Jace rang the doorbell.

I almost swooned when I saw him. Sunglasses accompanied by a beanie. I'm not usually huge on those, but on him…

Damn.

I did my best to hide exactly what he was doing to me. "What do you think you're doing?" I hissed.

"Hello," Jace said. "I was walking up to the door to grab my date?"

"Hi," I said breathlessly. "What would happen if my father or anyone else saw you coming up here?"

"Mr. Morgenstern's home?" Jace shook his head. "Never mind. I don't care if anybody saw me. I couldn't bring myself to just honk the horn," he kissed my cheek swiftly. "I'm not like that."

"Sometimes, we all have to make sacrifices."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand. "I'll keep that in mind for the next time we're sneaking off to some faraway place for an overnight date."

I perked up. "We're going somewhere far?"

"Hint number one," Jace winked. "Where's your bag?"

"My brother's bringing it down."

He raised an eyebrow. "Your brother knows?"

"He was relentless," I sighed. "And he just wants to see your car."

He looked back at it almost wistfully. "She's a beauty, huh?"

Jonathan chose that moment to come barreling down the stairs holding my bag. "Let me see her," he insisted.

Jace laughed and motioned behind him. "She's all yours."

Jonathan took my bag and almost _skipped_ outside to the car. Like a big puppy. Jace dragged me with him, still holding my hand tightly.

Jonathan admired the car. It _was_ pretty awesome. "It's a Scout, right?"

"Correct," Jace said as he picked up my bag where Jonathan had left it on the floor. He let go of my hand to put it in the back.

"What year?" Jonathan asked.

It was so weird seeing them interact like this.

"'69. She was my father's. I haven't taken her out and driven her in such a long time, I figured it'd be best to use her for this trip. She's my backup plan to not attract the paparazzi, in case my family weekend story doesn't work. No one'll recognize the car."

Even I was mesmerized by it—her. Whatever. I don't understand the purpose of putting female pronouns on cars and trucks. Boys are weird.

Eventually, Jonathan let us go. He reminded me to be careful and to have fun. He even shook Jace's hand.

And then he threatened him.

Jace sat in the driver's seat and looked kind of pale. I took his hand.

"He's not serious, you know," I reassured him. He looked really _freaked out._

"Yeah, he was," Jace said in a low voice. "I could tell."

He took a deep breath. "Sorry," he apologized. "My mother used to threaten me, saying I would regret it if I told my father about her."

"I'll kill Jonathan," I growled.

He squeezed my hand and smiled, some color coming back to his face. "I'll be okay. He was just protective. Which is the best thing he could be as an older brother."

I brought his hand up to my lips and kissed it.

"Hint number two," He started, "is this truck and the stuff in the back."

I looked behind me. There was a_ lot_ of stuff back there. Including coolers, bags of food, and… tents.

"Camping?" I guessed.

He played with my fingers. "Correct," he grinned. "It's a long road trip to where I want to set up though. How do you feel about a five-hour car drive?"

I pretended to think. "Make it four and a half hours and I'll forgive you."

His smile spread and he started the car, never letting go of my hand.

* * *

**I'm ending it there. I meant to have it longer, to fulfill the request of ****Fangirl crazi407****, but things happened and I'm really sorry. I have reasons for stopping here. Reason number one is because I'm a selfish asshole. I like to torture you all and make you anxious for the next chapter. Reason number two is that I liked it where it was. Reason number three is Blood of Olympus was just delivered to my kindle like two minutes ago and I need to read it and prepare for my whole life to be over when I'm finished reading it. I'll probably be crying for a few days.**

**Again, sorry for being a jackass, but I hope you all liked it anyway. :|**

**Until next time…**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments characters.**

* * *

**CookiesFly:**** Yeah, "last book in the series". More like the most disappointing book in the series. And yes, maybe I'll have Jon and Jace become ****_tighter than skinny jeans._**** I hate myself for saying that.**

**Random Brit (Guest)****: What did you think of BoO? **

**guest (Guest):**** thank you thank you**

**Alexia ShadowDemon: ****Thank youuu. There definitely will be more of Magnus. Not too much. But there will be more. Here you go!**

**Daire123: ****It ****_was_**** a little uncalled for for Jon to say that.**

**TwilightMortal:**** Thanks (:**

**AndyAshleyJakeJinxxCCPatchJace****: I feel like I'm the only one who feels this way, but I wouldn't be too excited for BoO. Very ****_very_**** disappointed at the ending.**

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**Guest:**** Glad you feel that way (:**

**Fangirl crazi407:**** One very Jaceful chapter coming right up!**

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**Random Brit (Guest):**** I'm definitely a fast reader, but that has nothing to do with my update schedule (which is once a week).**

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**NsS (Guest): ****Thank you :D**

**Guest:**** Wow. Those books are the worst. **

**SmokesGurl20:**** Here you go (:**

**bunnyboo65656:**** Thanks (: Here you go!**

** :**** Please make a unicorn fly around with happiness. I'd love to see it.**

**I was disappointed by the ending of BoO, and that's all I'm gonna say about it. 6/10 Rick Riordan, just sayin'.**

**A/N at the bottom.**

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Jace doesn't let go of my hand for a full hour.

And I don't let him let go.

I shuffled through the radio stations with my free hand.

"Ugh," I groaned. "No signal. With any of them."

Jace laughed. "That's what happens when you move farther away from the radio satellite." He pointed to the glove box with our intertwined hands. "Check there. I might have CDs in there."

I chose the first one. "'Fanmix shit don't touch'," I read out loud. "Impressive. Is it really shit?"

Jace smiled. "Nah," he took it from my careful fingers. "I just put it there so no one would listen to it. They're kind of personal."

"And you want me to hear them?"

He gave me a look and a wicked grin that sent shivers down my spine. "Yes."

Jace placed it in the CD slot and pressed play. "These songs are mixes of all my favorites and songs that make me feel certain things when I listen to them."

The first song played through the car's surround sound system. "What's this one?"

His ears were tinted in red. "It's called _A Dedication_ by Washed Out."

I waited. "_And?_"

"And what?" His ears were still red.

"Why is this one of your favorites?"

He still avoided the question. "It's not my favorite anything. It makes me feel something."

"Alright," I rolled my eyes. I took a gummy worm that he'd packed earlier and stuffed it in my mouth. "What does it make you feel?"

Now his cheeks turned red. He stuttered, "This song makes me want to fall in love."

Something turned in my stomach. I fell silent and listened.

I smiled. I agreed.

I leaned over and kissed his red cheek. "I like it. This is a cool CD idea. What's next?"

_Loud Pipes_ by Ratatat came on next, which he said was his favorite pump up song and then_ Migraine_ by Twenty-One Pilots played, which was his favorite song to rock out to. It was hard to imagine Jace Herondale rocking out to _any_ song, but I'll bite. The next one, the song that reminds him of summer was _Shadows_ by Bleachers. I fell asleep during his favorite cover of a song, _Can't Help Falling in Love_, covered by Fleet Foxes. As I fell asleep, I couldn't help but think it was the perfect song.

I woke up after about an hour, when we were stopped for gas. Jace was outside standing by the gas pump. I panicked for a moment, worried that someone might recognize him, but no one was around to see him.

I opened the creaky car door and slammed it shut. "Hi," I smiled sleepily.

He grinned. "Hi. How was your nap?"

I stretched and blinked slowly. "Not long enough."

He grin widened. "You have about two more hours before we get to the grounds. And then about a forty-five minute drive to my favorite area to set up camp."

I hummed. "That sounds good." I checked the time. It was about almost 1:30pm. "So you think we'll be there around 3 or 4pm?"

"Yeah," he grimaced. "There was actually a bit of unexpected traffic while you were sleeping. Some big accident. We should've been there around 2pm."

I shrugged. "That's okay." But it wasn't really okay. That means I slept longer than an hour. "I'm gonna go inside quick. Need anything?"

He pulled out his wallet and gave me a $20 bill. "No, but get anything you need."

I started to protest. "Jace, I can pay—"

"No," he insisted. "Clary, take the 20. Please."

I took it, but only because he was giving me that stupidly cute face. I scrunched my nose. "Fine."

Jace leaned in and kissed my nose, his hands on either side of my face. "You're really cute." He removed his hands and I almost whimpered. "Now go."

I forced myself away from him. What am I _doing_? All the touches, and quick kisses. I can't get myself into this mess. Not after Sebastian. But this is _Jace_ and Jace is so _attractive_ and _comfortable_ in all kinds of the sense for lack of better words.

I shook my head and walked into the gas station, used the bathroom, and then grabbed a cold drink for both of us and a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels. I paid, begrudgingly using Jace's $20.

When I walked out, Jace was back in his car. He pulled up in front of me and reached over to open the passenger door from the inside.

"Hi," he said, smiling.

I smiled back. "Hi." I climbed in and handed him a water bottle. "I didn't know what you'd like, so I just got you this."

Jace opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but he shook his head and stayed quiet. He took the bottle, making sure to brush my fingers with his. "Thanks."

I ripped open the bag of chocolate-covered pretzels like my life depended on it (because in all honesty, it probably did).

"Chocolate-covered pretzels?" Jace asked, clearly amused.

"My weakness," I clarified. "But if you want to totally annihilate me, bring me chocolate-covered strawberries."

"I'll think about that when we battle," He winked again.

I raised my eyebrows. "We're going to fight?"

"Yes," he said with full confidence. "Fights in relationships are very healthy to have."

I stiffened and whipped my head toward him at the word "relationship."

He spoke before I could say anything. "Relationships are _not_ always romantic, Clary. In fact, most are completely platonic."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Don't patronize me," I huffed.

Jace's grin slipped off his face at the tone of my voice.

Neither of us spoke for several minutes. The only sound that could be heard was the music of Jace's CD playing softly through the stereo.

After a few songs and of deafening silence, Jace turned the radio off.

"I'm sorry, Captain," He finally said. "I know you were hesitant about coming today and I ruined it by being a complete ass. I won't mention it ever again."

I smiled in my shoulder against my will. I held out my pinky finger. "Pinky swear?"

A small smile crept on his face. "Pinky swear." Jace linked our pinkies and held on tight. "Am I forgiven?"

I pretended to think about it. He was _so_ forgiven, but I decided to torture him for a while. "We'll see."

His face fell, and I almost took it back. "What can I do? I'll do anything for your forgiveness."

I bit my cheek to keep from laughing. "Consider this date your test."

"Test?" Jace asked. Then he nodded once. Twice. "Okay, a test. I'm good at tests."

He turned the radio back on and blasted the music. That was the last time we spoke for the next few hours.

But he never let go of my pinky.

When we finally arrived, I was barely awake. The sign read "Mojave National Preserve." _That_ woke me up.

"We're camping in the _desert_?" I asked incredulously.

Jace didn't seem offended. "It's not as bad as it sounds. It gets cold at night, but I've got us covered." He paused. Then he added, his voice softer, "My dad used to take me camping out here. Just the two of us, I remember being excite to get away from my mother, even if it _was_ just for a few days."

I squeezed his hand but said nothing. I didn't look at him either, because I knew I was wearing The Face—you know the kind: the pitying, I'm-so-sorry-for-your-loss face, the very kind that I'd hated people gave me when my mother had died. If I hated that face, then Jace surely despised it. So I stared forward.

Jace cleared his throat. "So like I said earlier, my favorite spot to set up camp is about another 45 minutes away. Is that okay with you?"

I nodded. "One question, though: what about bathrooms?"

He hesitated. "Well," he said slowly, "since this is a reservation, there _are _bathrooms…"

I waited. "But…?"

He winced. "….but not where we're going," he finished lamely.

"So…" I began, "…I'll have to pee outside?"

Jace turned red. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this is going to suck, and I forgot to warn you, and I'm sorry that this is probably going to be the worst date you've ever—"

"Jace!" I shouted. He fell silent. "It's _okay,_" I reassured him. "It's okay. It's different, and it's adventurous, and it will be better than any couch date that asshole has ever taken me on."

"Couch date?" He asked. He still looked like a kicked puppy.

I snorted in disgust and shook my head. "Yeah. He'd say he'd take me out to dinner at a nice restaurant, but he'd always back out last minute. We'd end up ordering pizza and watching a movie of his choice on his gross couch."

Jace didn't say a word.

"Besides," I said lightly, changing the subject. "Everyone has to pee outside at least once in their life, right?"

He looked at me and smiled thankfully.

The rest of the ride was loud with Jace's music, and even louder bursts of Jace's singing. And thank god he wasn't known for his singing voice. Along the way, we passed some other families setting up camp along the road. Considering they'd all consisted of small children, they probably kept close to the road for that reason.

Jace turned onto a dirt road. A sign on the corner read "Roadside Camping." The road became dusty and bumpy. Plain land surrounded us, and in the distance, mountains. About half an hour later, we finally parked under the only tree in sight.

Jace flexed his hands, like he'd been driving too long. I glared at him. "Next time, _I'm_ driving."

He smirked. "No, you're not."

I crossed my arms like a brat. "At least for an hour?"

He considered. "Maybe. Now let's go."

As soon as I stepped out of the car, I nearly fell. My legs were numb and sore from staying in the same position for so long. I groaned. Somehow I made it to the back of the truck, where Jace was already unloading the coolers. He grinned when he saw me and threw a heavy blanket at me that almost knocked me down.

By the time we'd finished unpacking, the sun was almost down. We'd finished putting up our tents (I say _we_, but after my many attempts and failures at putting up my own tent, Jace had had to do it for me). Then we'd sat on foldable chairs around the fire pit. Jace had created a fire and brought out hot dogs to roast. He'd made them crisp and warm and delicious. By the time we'd finished, the last of the sun had set behind the mountains.

Now we laid down on the heavy blankets, to cushion our backs against the hard ground. The only light was the moon and the lanterns surrounding us. Bugs chirped, owls hooted, and I could've sworn I'd heard a coyote howl in the distance.

My eyes were closed, exhaustion finally settling over me. "It's actually kind of eerie, being out here," I admitted.

I heard Jace shift and rustle the blankets, but I still didn't open my eyes. I heard several soft clicks, and then his breath was hot against my ear. "Open your eyes," he whispered.

I shivered, from the tone of his voice—low and husky—or his lips brushing my ear, I don't know. But I opened my eyes. Jace had turned off the lanterns, and he hovered over me, a small smile playing on his lips. He lifted my chin with two fingers, shifting my gaze from him to the sky.

I suddenly became breathless.

Above us and littered across the dark sky, millions of stars shown. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I lifted myself up on my elbows and sucked in my breath. I looked over at Jace, whose eyes glittered with excitement and hopefulness.

"It's gorgeous," I breathed. "It's brilliant, it's—it's—"

"Perfect?" He finished with a small smile.

I nodded. And then suddenly we were close, our noses almost touching.

"Captain," Jace whispered, his breath hot against my lips. "Is this… Can I—?"

I swallowed his question, pressing my lips firmly to his. One of Jace's hands lifted and curled around the back of my head, digging his fingers into my hair. Swiftly, he settled me down on the heavy blankets and hovered above me, his hands sheltering me, and kissed me harder.

I gripped his arms as he opened my mouth with his. I nipped his bottom lip and he let out a low groan from the back of his throat. One of his hands drifted towards my waist, and his fingers fiddled with the bottom of my shirt, barely brushing with my skin. And his lips were so, so warm. They trailed along my cold cheeks and down my throat, then back up to my lips. Jace's name formed on my lips in a breathy moan. The kisses eventually slowed, less hungry, and his hand on my waist loosened its tight hold. He kissed my top lip and then my bottom lip and pulled away.

I opened my eyes to find him still above me, his own eyes black with lust. We were both breathing hard. Then he said, "You."

"What?" I whispered, placing my hand on his jaw and drawing small circles on his cheek with my thumb.

"Earlier," he breathed, "at the gas station…you asked me what I liked. I like you, Clary. I like you so much it scares me."

I didn't say a thing, my heart pounding.

He must've mistaken my silence for panic. "I'm not asking for a rela—"

I pulled him down. "Shut up," I said. He complied, and I kissed him again.

And again and again and again.

* * *

**Goodness, I am late. Nearly two weeks. Hate me if you want (I wouldn't blame you), but I warned you that updates would be a bit choppier in October. Once this month is over, everything should be back on track.**

**Excuses for being late (although you probably don't like hearing excuses): (1) Feeling sick again. (2) Exhausted. (3) Beaten up (because when you work at a haunted house, some customers don't take being scared or jumped out at as easily as others might, and they may punch/kick you). (4) Unmotivated/procrastination. I know excuse number 4 is the worst, but it's true.**

**So what did you think? Full of fluff and Clace as promised (:**

**Don't forget to review :D**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments characters.**

* * *

**animefangurlcraz:** **Glad you liked it (:**

**lindsayhonaker:** **Thanks c:**

**Daire123 (Guest):** **Thank you. Here you go~**

**Guest:** **Thanks x**

**MI cra-cra (Guest):** **They won't do that **_**just yet**_ **but it **_**will**_ **happen. There will just be **_**so much Clace**_ **from here on out. Possibly a lot of angst too. I know how much everyone loves angst.**

**newt-scamanderp: ****That was the goal!**

**TwilightMortal:** **Thanks bb 3**

**Acoirizada:** **Don't melt, please.**

**xxo (Guest):** **That's so sweet! I'm sorry it took so long to update, but I'm glad you liked it!**

**AndyAshleyJakeJinxxCCPatchJace:** **Thank you for being understanding! 3**

**Arelia Miles:** **My god, I don't even want to talk about Calypso and Leo. Rick changed the two characters completely just so they could be together.**

**Guest****: Yes they did!**

**Katie99mo:** **Thanks! **

**Guest:** **Thank you c: Here you go!**

**Random Brit (Guest):** **I feel like I was the only one who was majorly disappointed by BoO /:**

**Saving People Slaying Things:** **I messaged you personally, but you never got back to me! Your reviews made me so happy. Thankfully, I've never experienced these things myself, but I've done a shitload of research, and I've even interviewed some friends who **_**have**_ **experienced them. I'm super glad that I've been portraying attacks and disorders accurately. I write about these mental illnesses to teach my readers that they should not be romanticized. They are not a fashion trend. On a lighter note, I'm really happy that you like the story! **

**BOOKWORMSRULE02: ** **Yes!**

**I Dream In Color: ****Hopefully your Jace will come around someday!**

**Guest:** **Wow, eager are you? There may be some in the future (;**

**Aye3:** **Thank you! I think whatever made me feel crappy just passed over. I promise there is more fluff to come!**

**Kodabear18:** **Thank you so much! :D**

**BooksAreMyLife365:** **Thank you (:**

**Chapter 10**

* * *

It was becoming freezing outside, but I didn't want to move.

Jace had wrapped a couple of large blankets around us. After what felt like hours—and probably was—of talking and...kissing—_lots_ of kissing—I felt content. I'd found out he loves the sea; he even admitted to owning a shack-like house on the coast of Italy.

I'd told him I hated orange juice and I swear, he'd nearly had a damn heart attack.

His favorite color was green. He'd gotten upset when I told him I couldn't choose a favorite color ("Everyone has a favorite color!" and then, "There _has_ to be at least _one_ color you like more than the others"). I'd explained to him that, being an artist, I used almost every color, which made it difficult to have a favorite color. And then much to his pleasure, I told him I'd taken a liking to the color gold very much recently. He'd accepted that answer.

And the _kissing_—my god, the _kissing_. I seriously think his lips can cure cancer, and I'm willing to fight anyone who thinks otherwise. His kisses ranged from feather light touches down my neck, to hard and hungry on my lips.

We still hadn't figured out what this new development is, and I didn't know when or even if we were ever going to figure it out. But neither of us were making the move to speak up, and neither of us were complaining.

But eventually, I really wanted to know what we were, if we were anything. Sebastian wasn't much of a cuddler, and as Jace tightened his hold on me, I knew that he was.

I was still skeptical about getting into another relationship, but I believed that maybe...maybe Jace could help me get past that. I would _not_ let Sebastian and a bad past ruin my future for me. _That _I knew for sure.

Jace shifted, and one of his hands snaked up to brush the hair off of my face.

"Did I lose you?" He asked. "Are you asleep?"

I pushed my face into his chest. "I'm here."

"Let me see you," the smile was evident in his voice.

He lifted my face to his. And then I yawned. Right in his face.

Jace laughed loudly. My cheeks flushed as I tried to hide my face. His laugh was melodic and beautiful, but I was too embarrassed to fully enjoy it.

"Hey!" He yanked the blankets away from me, still laughing. "Don't hide from me!"

He won. "I'm sleepy," I caved in.

Jace's eyebrows rose. "I can tell," he said mockingly.

And then he gathered me in his arms—blankets and all—and stood up.

"H-hey!" I squirmed. "Moron! Tweety!" I kicked my legs, but it was useless. It might as well have been effortless. Jace's body shook with laughter. I shrieked, "What are you doing?"

Jace grinned cheekily. "Getting you in the tent. Unless you'd prefer to sleep outside?"

I gave up. "No," I huffed. "But I could've walked."

"I know," he said simply. "But you looked too cute and comfy. Like a kitten." I blushed, and he smirked. "I also like that blush of yours." He kissed my cheek swiftly. "I like it a lot."

I shoved him away.

Jace opened up my tent and stepped inside. He knelt and set me down on top of some comforters. He hovered over me and brought his mouth down to mine for one last chaste kiss.

His cold nose touched my cheek and I gasped.

"Goodnight," he mumbled.

Just before he pulled away, I clasped his cheeks with my hands. "You're so cold."

"So are you," he pointed out.

I shook my head. "Not as cold as you." I paused. "Stay."

He blinked. "Stay...here? You want me to stay here?"

I brushed his cheeks with my thumbs. "That's what I said, dummy."

He hesitated. "Uh—Okay," he said.

Jace kicked off his shoes and pulled off mine too. I found the opening of the cocoon of blankets, and as he settled down beside me, he wrapped them around himself.

He turned to face me. "Goodnight, Captain."

My eyes flickered towards his lips. Behave. _Behave._ "'Night, Tweety."

Then his eyes glanced toward my mouth and the heat of his breath against my lips was too much. I swiftly pressed my lips to his. He let out a breath and opened my mouth with his. He wove his hand in my hair. There was nothing gentle or innocent about this kiss. It was hot and heavy. Jace bit my lower lip and then coaxed my tongue to dance with his. He was kissing me like a dying man in need of oxygen.

He pulled away for air, and then went for my throat. I ran my hands through his soft hair, and tugged on it when he nipped my collarbone. I gasped as Jace placed one of his hands under my shirt, dragging it up my back. His hand traveled back down and his palm spread against the small of my back, pushing our bodies closer. My mind shut down.

I was kissing Jace Herondale.

When I slipped my hand underneath his T-shirt, I felt him shudder. I dragged my nails up to his chest and felt the hard muscles as they twitched under my touch. He groaned in pleasure and dragged his lips back up to mine. This kiss was slower, deeper.

His lips slowed until he reluctantly pulled away. He drew in a ragged breath. His pupils were blown wide and dark. Hi voice hoarse, he managed to say, "I gotta stop or—or—"

I shut him up. "Stay," I mumbled against his lips. I looked up and gave him a wicked grin. "I'll behave this time."

Jace laughed breathlessly and placed his lips under my jaw. "I don't know if _I'll_ behave."

I pulled my hands from under his shirt. "I think I might have enough restraint to go around."

He smiled against my skin. "Then I guess I'll take that chance."

His strong hands felt wonderful on my cold skin. He still hadn't removed them from underneath my shirt, but I wasn't complaining.

I leaned in to kiss him one last time. I rested my head on his chest and listened as his heart beat slowed back down to a regular, healthy pace along with my own. His breathing eventually became deeper, and without looking at him, I knew he was asleep. I snuggled deeper into his chest and sleep eventually found me.

For once in a long time, I was content.

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**I don't deserve you guys. It's been a while. Too long. I know everyone hates excuses—and I have a ton—but I think they're pretty reasonable. I will name one reason why I've been gone, because I think it was the biggest: My computer broke and I lost pretty much everything. **

**Even so, this update isn't the best and I know you all deserve better. I could've done more. But I'm exhausted, and I felt way too guilty for giving you guys nothing for weeks. So here. Lots of Clace. Think of this as a huge apology. **

**Sincerely sorry, everyone.**

**Leaving on a happier note, to those who celebrate it, Happy Thanksgiving! (:**

**Until next time.**


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